


Amal

by Amal_D



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Gen, How Do I Tag, One Shot, Original Character Death(s), Original Fiction, Writing Exercise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-29 20:02:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20441708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amal_D/pseuds/Amal_D
Summary: Just a short thing i wrote as an exercise, it's basically the origin story of my favorite oc.





	Amal

In summer, the best time to visit the Temple of Gods was exactly at 4 pm. The sun was just in the right position to send its light flowing through the stained glass windows of the temple, mirroring the images depicted on them onto the floor of the main hall.

The Temple was busy today, but not for the reason it should have ever been. No one was marveling at the Temple’s decorations, no one was praying or singing or laughing. Instead, the main hall was teeming with the king’s soldiers, covered head to toe in drying blood that was not theirs. A good half of the hall’s floor was covered with the bodies of their victims — the priests of the Temple, still dressed in their finest robes for today’s celebrations. 

It was four hours after noon on the first day of the Celebrations of Life. How ironic, thought the last living priestess of the Temple, that today is the day she dies. The floor of her tiny bedroom was tinted red with blood. She never thought she’d regret that it wasn’t hers. 

Why did _she_ have to be the only one left?

She could feel the blood sticking to her hair as she lay on the floor, too exhausted to get up. It would take days to wash off the stench. She didn’t need that much time, though. She didn’t want it.

She struggled to get up, her legs giving up under her. With a pained gasp, she realized that at least _some_ of the blood on the floor must be hers. A long shallow wound stretched across her calf, not severe enough to do any real damage, but still painful. No, this couldn’t kill her. The gold-adorned dagger hanging on the wall, however, could do it without any problem.

And so she prayed for the last time — to the god of life for forgiveness, to the god of death for acceptance. She turned to the window and looked out into the street. From here, it almost looked like nothing was wrong. She smiled. She would miss this view. 

One strike of the dagger was enough to send her to the ground. 

She could feel the life leave her as blood covered more and more of the once white carpet. Quietly, she thanked the gods for her mortality. She closed her eyes and with a smile on her lips, she waited for the sweet darkness of death.

The gods, however, had other plans for her.


End file.
